Archive for January, 2013

Last night was bad.
The worst I have had in a LONG time.
I felt like my head was going to explode.

And I told hiim that.
I was tired of feeling cut off.
I am tired of feeling like a piece of furniture.

Honestly, I am tired of BOTH of us treating me like furniture.

It’s a combination of my husband being generally disconnected from society. He doesn’t like people. He likes me, but has no idea how to actually interact with me.
I would love to talk to him about my day… if I thought for a moment that he would care.
Oh, he cares that I am happy/satisfied. But he is just not interested in my job or hobbies. He is glad, though, that I have a job that I enjoy and hobbies that I love. He is concerned that I throw myself into things so fully that I get burned out.

Whaat bothers me is that I cannot vent to him.
I can’t talk to him about my day because he gets this glossy look in his eyes. I can’t unwind to him; it’s awkward and uncomfortable for the both of us.
Talking to him about dance is even harder. He just doesn’t care.

So last night I zoned out.
My brain spun and flew and banged against the inside of my head.
Every little thing that I felt I had done wrong, everything that I knew I failed at, all the things I did wrong…

I felt weak.
I felt useless.
I felt uwanted.

I wanted nothing more than to be comforted.
But I didn’t get that.

He sat, angry with me, in another room.

That didn’t help.

All I really, desperately needed was to feel his arms around me. I needed to hear that it would be ok.
But I didn’t.
I sat alone in the dark.
Crying.

I finally broke down, in a very loud, almost violent way, sometime around midnight.
I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.
I needed him to know how I felt.

We were up for another 2 hours talking – which is what we needed.

I understand… I am totally hormonally imbalanced right now.
I feel a bit extra “crazy” and was, probably, overreacting.

But I felt distanced.
I still feel it a little.
It’s hard to say now, since it was just last night.
But I just feel like I am being kept at arms reach.

Because I have felt so far away, I have been compacent in my domestic “duties”.
I do things like laundry and dishes rarely. I clean litterboxes as needed.
I mostly just sit… on the computer or reading, in a world of my own.
I haven’t done much because I haven’t had any desire to do anything. That has made me less desirable.

I am very sorry, dear, that I reacted so strongly to your mood. It was dramatic and uncalled for.
However, I do not apologize for reacting.

Your sour mood, caused me quite a bit of discomfort.
Knowing that your mood was caused by something I did, or rather, did not do, did not make it easier.

You must understand that I work in an office.
Monday through Friday 830-430, I sit (or stand) at my desk. I file, sort, copy, scan, email, process and communicate 95 percent of my day.
To try to find time for personal projects is not easy.
It is also not easy to sit on hold for 15 minutes waiting to hear from some “customer service representative” while I have my desk phone ringing and IMs from the staff blinking on my screen.

And to be told that I could NOT do wha I was calling about did not help.

So, I am truly sorry that I did not accomplish the thing you asked me to.
But I feel I have a good reason why it did not happen.
I tried.

Why isn’t that enough for you, dear?
When you get that “I’m disappointed in you” mood, you remind me of my mother. In this case, that is NOT a good thing.
You have made me feel unwanted and worthless.
And I cannot abide that.

But I was wrong to storm around the way I did.
Crying alone was no adult way to react.
So I am sorry.

I woke up this morning feeling wrong. I had strange dreams all night, but I couldn’t really remember them.

My husband called me today, to see how I was feeling.
He mentioned that he had some strange dreams last night, too.

Wierd.

Anyway…
While I was working on my coin bra, and “watching” old episodes ‘Angel’, I had sort of mini-waking dreams. Flashes of things that i know I’ve seen before, but weren’t real.

I was in a car.
Not my car (I drive a little sedan), but a station wagon. I don’t recall who I was with, but they felt familiar.
The biggest, and by that I mean most overwhelming, memory of it all was the cats.
Three of them.
One was my Peanut. The other two were teeny, tiny kittens.
They were absolutely adorable.
And needed my protection.

It was a warm day, and whoever I was with kept insisting on leaving them in the car.
But I couldn’t do it.
They were so small and cute and fluffy.
And it was my Peanut.
I couldn’t leave her in there. In the heat.

I have things to do, but I don’t really want to do them.
I don’t want to get out of my pajamas.
I don’t want to clean litterboxes.
I don’t want to do laundry or dishes.

I have my coin bra to finish – the fabric trim is on both cups, the Kuchi pendant is attached.
I started getting the chain, but found a little snag… the chain links aren’t solid, so the thread slips through. I think if I just spin the link around, it should work. Should.
Then I have to replace the straps. I think I’ll do D-rings again, the support is usually pretty fantastic.

But, I don’t really have the desire to do anything.
I don’t even have the energy to eat anything.

It’s not that I feel depressed, I just feel… ugh.
I think it’s the girl-flu.
I don’t usually get this degree of moody. But the last few months have been “off”.
It’s like, once I turned 30, shit started breaking.

‘aowrisgnv;pzvjfng:EROFBv hjn:OISDcvnm

^That is what my brain is doing now.
Blah.

Ok…. I HAVE to muster up some motivation now.
I’m gonna do it.
I’ll get right on it.
As soon as I’m done looking at LOLcats

I’ve done tribaret-style bras before. I even attempted AmCab – unsuccessfully.
But this will be my first really, really for-realsies ATS bra.

I am really excited, but also under a HUGE time crunch.
I need to finish it by next weekend (Jan 31).

I took me about an hour to hand-stitch the left side fabric trim. I figure it should be about the same for the right side.
Ok, there’s two hours.
Now figure in the coins. There aren’t many, probable 6-8 on each side. And the large medallion in the center. Plus some chain that will drape the cups themselves (but not drape down into my stomach).
And I have to add new straps.
My guess is 8-10 hours total. Which is what I expected.
I’ll have a good chunk of time this weekend to work on it, so, hopefully, I can get the majority of it finished, if not the whole thing, then.

This is my body.
I do what I want with it.
This is my body.
I make my own choices.
This is my body.
I use it as a canvas, tattoo it, decorate it, and pierce it.
I take medicine if I want to and only undergo medical procedures I choose.*

I have the right to share my body with whomever I choose without your approval. I have the right to decide whether or not to use my body to make a family, and how I want to use it. If I get pregnant, it is my right to have an abortion rather than adding the financial and emotional burden of another child to my awesome little family. My husband and I have the right to determine the size of our family. We have the right to stop having children and to continue to have sex. And if I…